|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
Quiescence
Contributed by
sally-heart-jack
on
Wednesday, 8th August 2007 @ 03:47:47 PM in AEST
Topic:
abstract
|
A lowly corpse is being kicked down again
Beaten down deadly, down to the ground
Mouth and jaw not functioning, unable to use them
It feels the artificialness inside itself, no refuge, screams have no sound
The bellow from the bottom of its' lungs never reaching another's ears
Shaved off is the attention it can scrounge, the world blatantly oblivious
Its' soulless pain unknown, though unveiled, and clear to see
Hollow, spineless, head brainless, hoping for any cell,
it waits and allows the discomfort in.
Its' ringing vocal chords attempt again, no avail, no conceivable tone even sparked
As its' acid tongue curls, it listens for a witness To tell the whole story
Its' foiled body not willing Lavish cars run by
It's back fractured, turns to face nothing,
a scenery of lights and tall buildings and structures
Neon fills its' sorry bloodied eyes, outstretched arms trembling, there's no telling what's next, what to expect.
Shaking, nervous, steeped in fearful spasms Torn and ugly, even the bugs crawl 'round
Its' stomach falling into little specks
Dissipating into its' veins. Every snake and foul-crafted creature establishes a bond with this body,
fruit and books piled up behind it, still in an environment.
Robbed of fortune, letting the seconds pass, farther from literal death
Eyelids flutter to freeze, wants to sigh, exhale, inhale, only to find no liberal breath
Ankles crossed, fingernails dug deeply, still, no pain has emerged, no hurt felt
and all its' nerves are down, irrationally hiding, it feels almost hostage.
Frailly it lifts an arm and tugs something, a hair, a leg,
nothing to serge through, there's only numbness.
Epic ads and jewels and stones stay in place, an interesting angle.
There seems to be no resurrection, no salvation from the sky
Nothing to hope for, place faith in, but its' somewhat excited in that thought.
The idea of nothing more.
Though delicate on the filthy street, its' mouth curls, and grins.
Slowly, it lifts each ligament,
places leg, leg vertical
arm, arm horizontal,
is flat now.
Maintaining this posture, it gracefully straightens its' frame
and releases any restraint, finally feels the burn of every blister
the dust in its' eyes sparkling, sleepy evidence.
Each burn made on itself is finally wrought to nerves, pain becoming less and less surreal.
[A pleasant expression is still displayed, through this.]
As the truth is finally known:
There is nothing to promote you higher,
it finally knows. 'No true salvation exists', are its' last thoughts, the truest thought ever thought
Its' eyes wider than ever, it lets go of everything once grasped and heard
and Death, the real end, is brought
Copyright ©
sally-heart-jack
... [
2007-08-08 15:47:47] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
Re: Quiescence
(User Rating: 1 ) by Fionndruinne on
Wednesday, 8th August 2007 @ 04:55:59 PM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Quite a violently vivid piece, overall very well executed. The vocabulary lends it strength. Here's a picture of a mind without its inherent longing and purpose, things which modern society seems intent on homogenizing right out of us.
One detail from my grammatically fanatic side, the possessive of 'it' is just its, not its'.
Keep it up.
Andrew |
|
|
|